Strange People
by tinytim12
Summary: November 11 and Wei Zhijun have a brief encounter. Takes place sometime before episode 9.


The man with the pointed ears slowly stirred his coffee. After it had cooled, he drank it, and felt the warm sensation flowing down his throat. Bliss. Everything was as it should be. The plan to take control of the Mafia was solid. Soon, he would be more powerful than ever. Never again would anyone ever look down on him. He would become one of the most influential men on the Earth.

Such a prospecting thought…

The door burst open and a blonde man strolled in. Wei nearly spilled his coffee. 'Who the hell are you?' he demanded.

'I am BK201,' the man said, adjusting his white suit.

'What?'

'It's a joke, silly. My name is November 11. MI6.' He extended a hand. Wei didn't take it.

'I'm not here to arrest you, Wei Zhijun. On the contrary, I came to offer you a deal. One that would be very profitable for your ventures.'

Wei regarded him silently, and slowly began unwinding his bandages. He had a feeling he wasn't going to like what he heard.

'We know about your plan to take over the mafia. However, some of my superiors think you in command will destabilize their trading deals with the triads. They are perfectly willing to pay you a very large sum of money to make you happy for the rest of your life. It may not be as much as what you'll make with the mafia, but at least you'll avoid multiple assassination attempts from the MI6.'

'No,' Wei said, the bandages falling to the floor. November lost his smile.

'No?' November pondered. 'That's the second time I encountered a strange man such as you. I must confess that I cannot see anything wrong with our arrangement. Perhaps you could point out – '

'I said no,' Wei smiled. Taking out a knife, he slowly began to cut himself on the wrist. November backed away.

'Odd,' the British agent said.

'That's what everyone said,' Wei grinned. Blood began flowing out of his wrist and dripped onto the carpet. 'Tell me, November, are you considered a skilled Contractor in the MI6?'

'Pretty much, yes,' November raised his eyebrows.

'Good,' Suddenly Wei swung his hand round, sending droplets of red blood shooting towards November, who instinctively dodged to one side. The blood landed on the carpet, Wei snapped his fingers, and the sections of the furry rug disintegrated into nothingness.

'Mmm,' November looked at the holes. 'Looks like I'm going to lose this fight.'

'Correct,' Wei grinned, slowly advancing.

'Just kidding,' November smiled sheepishly, and darted to the left. Wei flicked his wrist, and blood splattered all over the walls, November, dived, rolled, grabbed the cup of coffee and hurled it into Wei's face.

In mid-air, the coffee froze, forming tiny, sharp spikes. Wei casually swung, snapped. The frozen coffee shattered into fragments that fell to the floor with a clatter.

'Hmph,' Wei said. 'Is this all you've got?'

'No,' November said, and dove when an arc of red liquid zoomed towards him. He rolled, got up, just in time to avoid another deadly barrage.

'Pathetic,' Wei sighed, watching November twist to the side, and then rush to towards the door. Conveniently, it had been locked when he came in. The Briton turned around and darted to the corner of the room, avoiding even more specks of blood.

'Coward,' Wei's lip curled in distaste. 'There's no where for you to run. Come on, fight me.'

November smiled at him, and Wei felt a chill run down his back. Without another word, November darted past his opponent and towards the window. Before a surprised Wei could react, November had leaped out of the building.

'Shit!' Wei rushed to the window, to see a white figure falling through the air. November 11 had, essentially, just committed suicide.

'APRIL!' November yelled, and was suddenly greeted by a heavy shower of rain. A platform joining the Qi Long building and another high rise skyscraper appeared out of thin air, and the agent landed, rolled and stood up calmly on his own two feet. The rain stopped, and he looked up at Wei who was leaning out of the window.

Wei was suddenly filled with rage. Without caring whether he landed properly or not, he leaped from the ledge and onto the ice platform, where he landed on his side and broke his arm.

November watched with bemusement as Wei slowly got to his feet, popped the disjointed joint back into place without barely a whimper. 'Wei Zhijun. I just don't understand you.'

'That makes two of us,' Wei glared at the blonde man. November shrugged, took out a cigarette and lit it.

'This battle is already over,' he said, sticking the cigarette in his mouth. 'You've lost. Pity, really.'

'What?' Wei's face contorted into pure fury. 'What did you say?'

'I said this battle is – '

'Fuck you, November 11,' Wei started cutting his wrist again. 'No one. No goddman pompous motherfuck is _ever _going to say that to me again. I don't need your pity.'

Blood dripped on the ice. 'What I need is your pain.'

'Hmph,' November shrugged. 'Anyway, let me elaborate on my earlier point. You are, to put it in crude terms, screwed. Even as we speak, you are already trapped.'

Wei looked down to see his feet encased in ice. He laughed, an insane sound. 'Idiot! I can destroy it with my blood!'

'You seem to have a rather low opinion of me. You see, my ice although strong, is rather thin. If you try to destroy it you'll destroy your own foot as well.'

'No matter,' Wei snarled, swinging his hand. November ducked as the blood sailed harmlessly over him.

'My, my,' November shook his head. 'You're a special little man, you know that? Make the rational decision. Accept our offer.'

'No.'

'Then, I'm afraid you'll have to die.' November placed his hand on the ice and a deadly icicle rose up. The contractor grabbed it and spun it around. 'Goodbye, Wei Zhijun. It's been an interesting chat.'

Wei snapped his fingers. The ice around his feet exploded, leaving his feet unscathed.

'I thought you said the ice was too thin for me,' he grinned.

'That was a joke,' November said, throwing the icicle. Wei dodged to one side and ran towards the agent, placing a bloody handprint directly on his cheek and then leaping back.

'Oh dear.' November said, touching his wet face.

Wei raised his fingers. 'Die, November 11.'

Then his hand dropped to his side. 'Just kidding.'

November's eyes widened. 'You're not killing me?'

'Hmph. I already defeated you. What's the point of killing you?' Wei turned to leave. 'Besides, I like you.'

'Why?' November frowned. It was a very confusing night.

'You called me special.' With that, Wei ran across the ice platform and through a window, back into the Qi Long building. November contemplated continuing his attempt to kill the Chinese contractor, but until he got the blood cleaned off Wei still had the upper hand. But there was another thing that compelled him not to go after Wei.

He couldn't quite place what it was. It was just a feeling, an instinct, of what? Respect? Guilt? Sympathy? Sighing, he walked in the other direction. BK-201 and Wei Zhijun weren't the only strange contractors in town, he mused with a smile.


End file.
